A Legacy of Shadow
by daikage
Summary: A L5R fanfic. A lone man in the Twilight Mountains, and the chance encounter that changes his life.


Legacy of Shadow  
  
The harsh wind bites through the simple brown clothes of the man squatting just out of sight of the path. He doesn't move, even as the wind chills him to the bone. As he waits, motionless, a single flake of snow falls from the sky to land on his bandaged hand.  
  
One flake becomes two. Two become ten. Ten becomes twenty, until the show is falling so heavy that it is hard to see further than a few feet in front of oneself. Still, the man does not move.  
  
Not until he hears the sound of something approaching. Something big, and loud. He can see the shadowy outline of it in the falling snow well before the creature itself is actually visible.  
  
Ogre.  
  
The man tenses his muscles, silently shifting his weight in preparation. His hand creeps carefully to the sword strapped to his side. He waits patiently, sweat of anticipation soaking through his bandages. The ogre is so close; he can smell the sour musk of its body.  
  
As the beast passes, the man slips from his hiding spot to trail it. His training alone would be enough to allow him to move without a trace. He has a few additional advantages, though.  
  
Stealthily, he approaches the ogre. The sound of his sword sliding from its saya seems deafeningly loud to his sensitive ears, but his prey doesn't seem to notice. With a sharp intake of breath, he lunges for the Shadowlands creature.  
  
The katana strikes true, but not true enough. The ogre cries out in pain and rage, whirling to face the reason it is now bleeding. The man falls back into a defensive position. The ogre bellows, raising a fist into the air and charging for the man.  
  
The fight is over quick. Anyone witnessing it would have claimed the man moved with unnatural speed and skill. They would claim he was not human with the number of hits he took. They would be close to the truth. He was once human, now something beyond.  
  
The man stands over the body of his fallen foe. In his hand is the shattered remains of his katana. Dropping it to the ground, he stumbles away to an embankment of rocks just off of the path, once again out of sight of any passers by. He slumps to the ground, clutching his side as he does so.  
  
Slowly, he unwraps the bandages on his right hand. Before his eyes he can see the once blackened flesh restore itself. With a smile, he mutters to himself.  
  
"So, it's over. I'm free of the Taint once and for all."  
  
He shifts his position, wincing with the movement. When he opens his eyes, there is a man sitting next to him. The stranger appears to be a young man in plain traveling clothes.  
  
The stranger speaks. "You killed that ogre back there?"  
  
The man simply nods.  
  
"It looks like you didn't do so well in the fight. You have some broken ribs, and you are bleeding internally."  
  
"I...I know. I'm not going to last to the end of the day. This is where I die."  
  
The stranger nods, his face grim. "You are right, Daikage-san. You have lived a long life, and now it is time for you to finally rest."  
  
The man looks at the stranger in awe. "How do you know my name? What sort of spirit are you?"  
  
"No spirit. Look at me, closely. I think you know who I am."  
  
Daikage, once of the Bayushi family before he became one of the Unbroken, examines the younger man carefully. His eyes flash in realization. "Jurojin."  
  
The stranger smiles. "Yes. You have lived a long life, learned many things. With my guidance, you have become a legend among your clan. Now, I have come to grant you one final prayer before you move on to Meido and beyond."  
  
Daikage leans back against the stone, feeling suddenly very tired. "I have done much in my life. Many things I regret, and many I do not. I fought with my clan during the Coup. I fought to help restore the glory of the Scorpion during the Second Day of Thunder. When we were exiled, I stayed behind to observe from the shadows. I fought at Oblivion's Gate. When the spirit armies of the Steel Chrysanthemum threatened the peace of the Empire, I personally led a legion of samurai into battle. I have traveled beyond the borders of the Empire."  
  
Jurojin nods sagely, allowing the dying man his memories.  
  
"I have watched my clan leave the shadows to rule the courts, and fought to return us to our true purpose." He looks down at his newly rejuvenated hand. "I have turned to the dark arts, risking my own soul for the good of the Empire. It is only fitting that now, just as I redeem myself of the sins of my past, that I die."  
  
The Fortune of Longevity rises. "That it is."  
  
Daikage slumps as his strength begins to leave him. He coughs into his hand, blood trickling down the corner of his mouth. "I cannot say that I would do anything different, though. I lived my life the way I thought appropriate. My only desire is that my legacy lives on. I wish only that my son live a long life, free of the mistakes I made in mine. I...never really got to tell him...how proud I was..."  
  
Jurojin looks down on the body of the Scorpion before him. The snow continues to fall, soon covering the dead man in a concealing blanket of white.  
  
With a sad smile, the Fortune walks down the path. "Trust me, Daikage-san, he knew. He always knew." 


End file.
